Challenges
by alexhlovesyou
Summary: Katara is captured as a young girl, and is forced to work as a servant for most of her childhood in the Fire Nation palace.
1. Beginning

The wind wisps her hair around, gently brushing her face and trailing behind her gracefully. Her barren feet pound out a rhythm into the ground as she runs down the dirt path, passing blurs of fauna as she strides. The scenery around her stretches out and over the horizon, covered in a tall layer of lush grass and the occasional sparse tree, soundless except for harsh breathing and the footsteps of the young girl. Her expression portrays a mix of fear and delight, of hopelessness and freedom. From great distance behind her emerge the faint shouts and calls of her pursuers. A wry grin spreads across the girl's face, completely covering the terror that laid there for so long. The lines in her face that don't belong on such a young child are lifted as she smiles. Her legs leap further and her arms swing faster, and her dark hair whips around more violently, and the sounds of commotion behind her dull to a low hum, utterly inaudible to her. For the first time in what feels forever, she lets out a loud laugh, and spreads her arms wide.

She is free.

She is one hundred percent free. The chains that confined her before are unknown to her now. The shackles that once clung to her wrists were left behind; all that exists now is the world around her. She has no name, no history, no memories from a life prior. She is living in the present, which is the only world that matters anymore. Her deep blue eyes glint with a joy that had not been there before.

Even if it will only last a week, or a day - even a mere moment, this feeling that lifts her heavy heart is enough to make life worth living. It returns to her the hope she had lost along with her companions so long ago, when the world was at war. The army that took her from home and controlled her every move was now far behind her, though, and regardless of what awaits her in her future she feels hope.

So she runs, as far as her weakened legs will take her. And as she runs, she smiles, because a new life awaits her just beyond the horizon.


	2. Accusation

_Sorry for the last chapter - it was incredibly short. I'm writing each chapter as a submission to my tumblr 30 Day Writing Challenge, so each chapter will be about the size of a drabble, not a normal fanfic chapter. Sorry._

* * *

"Wash them," a dry voice spat. "Now." The palace maid turned on her heels and strode away, leaving the scrawny girl alone in the corridor.

Katara stared at the giant heap of clothes in front of her with clenched fists. She made no attempt to fight back, knowing all too well what would happen if she did. After years of working as a slave in the Fire Nation, she'd learned that hard work paid off a ton more than rebellion. Swallowing hard, she gave a tense nod, and pushed up her sleeves. Getting used to being pushed around wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience, though there was nothing she could do. No one was going to come save her.

She was on her own.

Reluctantly, Katara lugged the pile of garments down the staircase to the laundry room, and plopped it into a large washing basin. A pang of disgust rushed through her as she remembered once more that she was working hard for her enemies. She should be retaliating - she should be refusing to work, or planning a rebellion with the other slaves, or something. Something more than this.

Something _more_ than washing clothes and polishing floors day after day. But what was a fourteen-year-old to do? She was young and weak. Weak, and alone, with no where to turn. Hope had long since disappeared. The flame that once flickered wildly in her chest had been put out violently.

After washing the royal family's clothes in the basin, Katara loaded the basket and hauled it outside to a small courtyard to dry. As she pinned the deep red gowns and tunics to the web of clotheslines in the back, a wave of jealousy rushed over her. These... these _criminals_ were sitting inside a grand palace, drinking tea and laughing with their family as their armies killed thousands of innocent people. Children were raised with the idea of being superior than the rest of the nations, simply because they wore red clothes and were protected by Firelord Ozai. _Such ignorance,_ she thought gruffly, as she sulked down the path leading to the indoors of the palace.

"You! You - water girl! Theif! THEIF!" The shout echoed in the giant hallway. Katara jumped and turned around cautiously, only to be pushed to the ground by a red-faced palace guard. "Filthy girl!"

"What - what's going on?" Katara shouted back.

The guard let out a vicious laugh. "Don't play dumb with me." His voice was tainted with disdain. "Just hand over the Fire Lady's necklace. I really don't think you wanna play any games with me, kid." The guard knelt down at her waist and held his fist at Katara's throat, just waiting for an excuse to strike the girl with flames.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice rang out with a strength that surprised even herself.

"What'd I say about playing dumb?" He scowled and pressed his fist to her neck.

"I didn't take any necklace. I haven't been anywhere near the Fire Lady in weeks." She raised herself to meet the guard's intense glare, pushing his fist onto her neck harder.

The guard let out a raging sound and hissed, "Wrong answer."

Just as Katara felt his fist warming, she kicked him as hard as she could in the gut, and scrambled backwards from him. A crescent of flame was released from his hand just as he was flung back onto his side. Katara swore under her breath and hastily pushed off the ground with her sore feet, and ran through the corridors, ignoring the shouts from the guard behind her. She just needed a place to hide - _now_.

And just as she was beginning to think she'd be caught, a small wood door presented itself to her. It was far less ornate than any of the other rooms in the castle. "Perfect," she huffed. She flung the door open and slammed it behind her, not caring to glance at her surroundings before the darkness closed in. The thin girl quickly sat down in a corner and hugged her knees, only to jump at the sound of a voice.

"Um... you're sitting on my leg." Katara let out a small yelp as she jumped from her sitting position. She turned around to face the source of the voice, but she couldn't quite make out who she'd sat on.

She had only a few seconds to realize who the boy was when the door swung open, and a menacingly gleeful voice rang out. "Found you, Zuzu!"


	3. Restless

"I found you, Zuzu! I've been looking fo-" The raven-haired teen stopped mid sentence at the sight of Katara. Fear flickered in the water girl's deep blue eyes as the identity of the girl in the doorway dawned on her. The princess's enraged glare remained for what felt like minutes, until it was replaced with her usual twisted grin. "See you've found a friend, Zu."  
The fire prince opened his mouth to object, though Katara took the opportunity to dash past Princess Azula - shoving her to the side in doing so - and bolted down the hall.  
And once again, the young waterbender was running down the palace halls, frantic with fear. Guards were shouting and running after her, and the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing grew nearer and nearer until-  
A jerk to the side - pulled down to the ground - a door slammed shut… Katara found herself cloaked in darkness. A sound of shock escaped her before a rough hand clasped over her mouth. "I don't know who you are, but you're a fool. You really…" The voice was cold and full of rage, though whom it belonged to Katara had no idea. She couldn't see a damn thing, nor could she turn around to face her… Opponent? Well, whoever he was, he had saved her from being caught by the guards. But who would do that without motive? Surely he couldn't be on her side. No one was.  
"Mmph-" The girl struggled; his hand was still clamped tightly over her mouth.  
"Sorry, sorry-" the voice spoke with an annoyed tone, "just hold on, would you?"  
Sure enough, seconds later the sound of armor clanking and low shouts grew louder as guards passed. Once the commotion had slowly ceased, the boy released her- or rather, she jabbed her foot in his chin and pushed herself from him and back up against a wall.  
"What the HELL," she shouted, pointing an angry finger at the boy drowned in shadows before her, "are you doing?"  
"Me? What am I doing? What the hell are YOU doing?"  
"Who are you?"  
"Who are YOU?"  
Katara sighed and clenched her fists. "Can we at least turn on the lights or something?"  
A sigh emitted from somewhere in front of her. "Fine." The sound of footsteps tapped towards her. She felt cloth brush up against her cheek. A quiet 'click' filled the silence of the room and suddenly light flooded around the two.  
Yellow-gold eyes, pale face, and… a scar?  
The golden colored eyes narrowed at the sight of the water tribe girl. Even though her superiors had dressed her in red clothing and prevented her from wearing her hair in her usual fashion, there was no mistaking those ocean blue eyes.  
It took a moment for Katara to realize that their faces were inches from each other, and Zuko's arm was resting on her shoulders, still outstretched towards the light switch.  
The two stood there in an awkward silence for a moment, studying each other's expressions. Friend or foe? Neither could quite tell.

Katara's gaze wandered through the cracks of her ceiling, her mind traveling to the events from earlier. Burns flared on her arms and legs, and she winced as she remembered the sight of the flames coming down on her like a terrifying flash of sun. What had she done? Where had she gone so wrong…? Not even Zuko could have helped her run; once they were discovered hiding in the empty room, his highness had been carried off by a very angry mother and a band of guards, and Katara had been dragged downstairs to be 'punished' for 'stealing the Fire Lady's necklace'.  
As she lay there, raging about her unfair treatment, quiet, steady breathing (and the occasional snore) echoed in the small room reserved for the lowly servants of the palace. For hours sleep had evaded her, no matter how long she lay she could simply not distract herself from her burning limbs.


	4. Snowflake

_Hey guys, sorry if this sounds lame or is confusing or whatevs. Since these are only drabbles, I felt like skipping around in time, sooo... yeah._

* * *

Her brown hair lays on the sheets in perfect waves, as if they were under water. Deep blue eyes flicker open, and her mouth quivers for a moment, before delivering a light yawn. She mumbles something inaudible and grins, turning over to her side and draping her arm over his chest. She closes her eyes.

"Mnn…" The boy's arms stretch out, one running beneath Katara and the other exploring the reaches of the other side of the bed. "Good morning," he says drowsily, looking at her with a sweet, lazy smile. He cradles her head in his hand and pulls her closer, kissing her forehead gently. She giggles.  
"Morning, Zuko." She nestles her head into him, his arm still under her neck as a pillow. Her sapphire eyes flutter open once more and she glances up at the boy - now a man; he'd grown since the two met as young teenagers - she was laying beside through the corner of her vision. He catches her glance and grins at her, and plants a short kiss on her lips before completely turning over to face her.  
"So," he half-whispers, with a playful mood about his tone, "what do you want to do today?"  
Katara lets out a soft sigh and turns to lay on her back. "We don't have to think about that now. Let's just…" He lifts her chin with a finger so that she faces him, and kisses her softly once more. "…stay here," she smiles, "just for a little longer."  
Zuko's eyes close and the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly turn up in agreement. The water tribe girl closes her eyes as well, and the two lay there in gentle silence.  
Their minds wander, Zuko's to the days they spent getting to know each other in the palace as teens, meeting in unused rooms or in empty gardens, relishing in the little time they had together. Katara, still nestled into the man's shoulder, couldn't help but peek through her eyelashes at him - at the man who had run after her, not to take her back to the palace as a servant, but to run away with her, in complete disregard of his position as prince. It was as if they were two snowflakes, falling gently from the sky in the midst of winter. Their lives were crumbling apart, though had they really been better before? They were falling together, and that was all that mattered.


	5. Haze

Teeth chatter.

A body, somewhere in the heart of the Fire Nation, shivers. For a nation surrounded by volcanoes, it's surprisingly cold at night. As the sun sets, a thin layer of fog sets over the field. Katara pulls her stolen red cloak closer to her shoulders in attempt to stop the subtle shivers. The feeling of freedom remained from earlier, though the energy was gone; her shoulders are slumped and her feet drag slightly through the rippling grass. As she trudges on, step after painful step, the scenery stays stagnant. She's stuck in the same eternal grassy field that she'd been in since she escaped the palace, heading towards a goal that never stops running away from her, longing for the horizon that she can never quite reach.

A distant shout shatters the silence of the serene field. Katara stops in her tracks and turns around. _No one can still be following me, right?_ For a moment she thinks the shout resembles her name, though she quickly waves off the thought and continues walking.

But the second time she hears it, she's sure of it.

Someone's shouting her name. Not in an accusatory way - not someone who wants to drag her back to the palace to be punished for running. Someone's shouting her name frantically, worriedly, _longingly_. Katara whips around to face the source of the voice, and her long, messy hair follows in a graceful yet feeble manner. All she can see is the blinding sunset on the horizon; the palace has long been out of sight.

The third shout sounds closer than before, though still a ways away. And then she sees it - a tiny spec of silhouette bobs up and down right underneath what's left of the sun.

Katara runs. She's all out of energy; her legs are almost limp and her arms can hardly swing. Every step feels like a mile closer to collapsing, though she can't stop. Not now. She's running on hope. The hope that someone needs her - someone _wants_ her.

The tiny spec grows to be a dot, and then slowly to be a very small figure. As Katara bounds wearily towards that figure, she can feel the strength returning to her legs - hardly, but it's there. And as she grows nearer the small figure grows larger, until she's sure of who it is.

"Zuko," she breathes, and she's shocked at how hoarse and quiet her voice is. She swallows hard and shouts his name again. The outline of his hair and clothes define themselves, and a warm tear slowly cascades down the curve of her cheek.

And before she could make out his face they collide, her face buried in his chest and their arms gripping desperately around each other.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

"You can't get rid of me that easy." Zuko laughs and plants a long kiss atop her head.

Katara smiles. Her limbs relax, and the two stand there, drowned in each other.

One lone thought drifts through Katara's mind:

_Finally._


	6. Flame

_Is this what it feels like? Being hurt by the one you love, I mean. I wonder? I don't really feel anything. Well, I feel numb._

_That's something, at least. Sort of._

_But what I want to know is why. I just don't understand anything. _

_I just... don't... understand._

Katara sat with her arms draped over her waist, one hand clutching the other, and her legs lazily bent in front of her. Her palm still radiated with heat, and it's surface was a very painful pink. Flames reflected in her tired eyes; a flickering red-hot heat against an ocean blue background. A small searing pain stung her bottom lip; she'd been biting it hard for the past minute. A scuffling of feet passed by the door she was sitting by quickly. She knew who the feet belonged to. She knew he was worried, and that he didn't mean to do it, but she didn't want to see him regardless. The emotions inside her weren't necessarily anger or sadness. She didn't know what they were exactly, but they didn't feel good.

A muffled voice and more footsteps faded in and then out again as Zuko passed the door again. She could almost catch a word that sounded like "Tara," and a silent inner war erupted within her. She wanted to - she _craved_ to - jump to her feet at the sound of his nickname for her, though at the same time her feet wouldn't budge.

_Why am I like this? I know it was an accident..._

Katara pulled her legs in close to her and rested her chin atop her knees, caught in a confusing state between despair and numbness. The burn mark on her hand flared, and she gripped it tighter, shutting her eyes tight.

Just as she laid her head on her knees, the door flung open with a snap, and Katara's head popped back up. And suddenly the pain in her hand didn't matter anymore, because the pain in her chest felt much more severe. Zuko was standing in the doorway, his chest pumping up and down and his eyes frantic. He scans the dark room, and when his eyes came across the girl sitting in the corner next to the door, he swallowed hard and crouched down to face her.

Katara looked to the floor beside her, not wanting to look him in the eyes, because she knew that if she did she wouldn't be able to hold back her tears. He stared at her with a heartbroken expression, and she examined the cold tile floor. "Katara, please, I'm sorr-" he hesitated as Katara flinched. "I'm sorry. I'm so so so sorry..." He shut his eyes tight and lowered his head. His hands gently reached for hers, and he bit his lip as he raised her burnt palm. "Tara," he whispered, his voice shaking as his gaze set upon the red skin stretching to the tips of her fingers. Katara shut her eyes tighter and tried to pull her hand back, but Zuko refused to release her. He intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't asking for forgiveness. He wasn't begging her to accept his apology, or pleading for a response. He was just that - sorry.

Zuko lifted his free hand and placed it ever so softly against the side of Katara's face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes slowly dragged from the floor to his face. His eyes lightened slighly, and he gave her a hurt, weak smile.

_I love you, _he mouthed.

_I won't ever hurt you again._

Katara squeezed his hand and returned his sorrowed smile.

_I know. I love you too._


	7. Formal

_Okay, well... Uh... I don't really have much to say about this drabble except I AM SO SO SORRY. I got tired when I was writing it and went to sleep, and I forgot my plot for the ending. xD_

_I might finish it someday, who knows... but yeah. Sorry._

* * *

The amiable smile he wore couldn't be any more artificial. The Fire Lord's son sat amongst his sister and parents at a long table, set at the end of the room on a raised platform. The room was filled with upper-class citizens from the Capital city, high-ranking military officials, and the palace's loyal servants, one of which happened to be from the Southern Water tribe. The girl was young, thirteen at the most. The servant attire she wore was more presentable than her usual red, dirty garb, though the dress was too large from her, and hung awkwardly in many places. She carried a serving platter stocked with odd seafood bits and small finger foods. The ambience of the room was a generally cheerful lull, accompanied by the occasional obnoxious laugh. The rest of the servants seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere, and were happy to be attending, if only as a mere part of the working staff. The Water Tribe girl felt differently; although she'd been living in the Fire Nation for years now, she despised any work involving social events. Every birthday, holiday, ball, war meeting, family or friendly visit, and rally, the amount of work Katara was given dramatically increased, along with the time she'd spend around company or other staff. Most of the staff were Firenation citizens; the only foreigner she knew of was herself. The servants she worked alongside with weren't exactly good company, as well as her higher-ups, though she occasionally found comfort in talking with the kitchen staff while running errands.

Sadly, the kitchen staff were quite busy, due to the large amount of guests attending the Fire Prince's fifteenth birthday. His younger sister, Princess Azula, was wearing a rather mischievous grin, while their parents wore content, happy faces. Occasionally the mother would steal a sideways glance at Zuko to see that he was enjoying his party - his fake smile seemed to suffice for her.

And den Zuko wuz liek ' fuq dis shiet dis party sux '

' LETS RAVE '

Thend


	8. Companion

The only reassurance that Zuko hadn't already left her was the gentle touch of his hand in hers. The two sat in silence, both too tired to find a topic for conversation. They'd already spent the last couple hours talking about everything from hardships in life to the few and far between happy childhood memories they had acquired in their lives. They'd start little arguments that started on the difference between a ring-tailed lemur and a winged lemur - Katara stated that the ring-tailed lemur had longer fur than the winged lemur, and Zuko argued that the amount of stripes on a winged lemur was more than Katara's account - that escalated to heated debates on the efficiency of the educational system - which, of course, was based upon what they'd overheard from discussions over the years, seeing as neither of them had a traditional education.

Their conversations slowly drifted from vocal disagreements to lengthy stories about mothers and sisters and brothers. The beauty of youth, of which both of them were still in the midst of, engulfed them. They told stories of canoeing down rivers, feeding turtleducks, catching otter penguins, bonfires on beaches - mostly useless memories they'd come to cherish more than anything. Anything but the memory of a mother's embrace. The two found comfort in the fact that they weren't alone - they both were separated from their mothers.

After they shared their hundreds of stories, fought countless arguments and reminisced about the littlest things, silence dawned on them. Although no one was saying anything, the air in the enclosed room was anything but awkward. The two sat next to each other, hand in hand and fingers intertwined, communicating without words; connecting in a way completely unlike conversation. They sat side by side as Yin and Yang. Tui and La. Sun and moon. _Fire and water._ Opposites, and yet the same in so many ways.

The young girl featured a gentle, kind face, and a personality to match. The firebender, on the other hand, was aggressive in every way, from the way he spoke to the way he looked. Though just as Katara could be fiesty, Zuko had his soft side. His face changed when talking about his mother, and the time they spent together in his childhood. He smiled a smile Katara could never provoke from him; his eyes glinted with the memories and his mouth turned up at the corners in the most childlike way.

They balanced each other. They brought out the best and worst from each other.

Fire and water.


	9. Move

They came in short, drawn out raids. First they took the men. Next was the children. Her friends. Then the elderly, including her grandmother. They all disappeared, one after another. Her grandmother. Her father. Sokka. Her mother. And last, her. The raids had wiped out almost the entire tribe; Katara was one of the few survivors, along with women who had hidden during the attacks. Every time the snow turned black, and the sound of engines churned over the water, they ran. Every time, they took dozens. And every time, they came back, each interval shorter than the last.

Katara was the only one who still had hope. Maybe it was because she hadn't been captured yet; she hadn't experienced the dread of torture that was soon to fall upon her. She didn't know what was in store; she was just a child. A child with no clue of the horrors of the world. So when fate became reality, the young waterbender didn't understand. She was supposed to remain calm while foreigners were hauling her away to a criminal people's palace? She was supposed to obey the people who separated her from everyone she cared for, who killed hundreds of innocent people, who brought horror on the world? And she was supposed to _work_ for the rulers of these disgusting people? _No._ No, she couldn't do it.

So Katara resisted. She refused to stand up, she refused to eat, to sleep, to speak... The other workers simply pretended she didn't exist. So did she. Her plan was immature; she didn't last long. Sure enough, survival came before pride, and she stood. She ate. She slept and talked and even worked, just so long as she could do something other than killing herself.

And she did so until she met Zuko.


	10. Silver

_Don't ask me how this drabble has to do with the prompt "silver". I have no idea. It was late._

* * *

She missed him in the mornings. Whenever she awoke, her arms stretched out to meet the empty pillow beside hers; the wrinkles in the sheets where he once laid. She would lazily roll over and fix her gaze where his eyes would peer over at hers. She felt his her hand in his, his breath on her ear in a short, sweet whisper, the little jump her heart made every time he smiled...

The bed was empty, like every other morning. And like every other morning, Katara woke up feeling cold. She stared at the ceiling, following the intricate web of cracks with a stale gaze. The walls surrounding her were painted a dull, chipping gray, and the room was bare except for a lone double bed with a worn out metal frame and a single thin mattress. Katara lifted her torso up from the stiff bed and swung her legs over the side, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Her vivid blue eyes squinted as she yawned and stretched. Mornings weren't usually terrible - Katara was more of an early bird - though, this particular morning seemed drearier than the rest. It seemed like the mornings that she woke to an empty bed grew more frequent, regardless of how early she'd been rising.  
She sluggishly made her way down to the tiny kitchen and fixed herself a cup of ginseng tea, and sat down at the table. The warmth from the tea hardly spread to the base of her wrist; the rest of her body was quite cold.  
Which is why it came as a shock to her when a pair of arms tenderly wrapped around her. Zuko kissed the top of her head and said softly, "Good morning, Tara."  
Katara smiled and closed her eyes, gently placing her hands on the arms draping around her waist. "You're home."  
The moments that he was there made up for those where she stood alone.


End file.
